In ten years, I hope to know
where my dreams come from
and what it’s like to have a space
reserved for sharing things like
art, poetry, and music laced in
inspiration, hope and authenticity.
I hope that we’ve found a way
to understand where we’re coming from
and how we got here. I hope that we
exercise our rights to freedom of speech
and that we’ve started to heal from
the events coming to a head as we speak.
I hope that the news is more than sorrow
and propaganda and pitting groups
against each other with government backing -
maybe by then, I’ll actually pursue journalism
the way I spent so many years telling myself
I would. Or maybe I’ll own a museum where
we all just gatherr every day of the week
to share whatever the rest of the world
doesn’t yet know how to accept (though,
I hope in ten years, we all know how
to accept each other and love each other)
because humanity is the same no matter
the paths we’ve walked, the pigments we wear,
the names we have rolling off our tongues.
In ten years, I wonder what the momentum
I’ve put into motion today will have become,
don’t you? What else do you wonder?
